"Still thinking about a road duel, huh?"
Separated by hundreds of meters, the events taking place between those buildings were all within Master Fuli's Power of Thought, each stone piercing through the brick walls, directly hitting the militants inside the houses.
The people of the civil resistance organization got hit if they moved, and if they didn't move, they'd get hit eventually anyway, either way, they'd get beaten.
"Master Fuli, beautifully done, kill those West Rakshasa bastards on the other side!"
Miyel, driving into the city, saw the devastation suffered by the West Rakshasa bastards, couldn't help it, and gave Master Fuli a thumbs up to express his inner joy.
Between the Eastern and Western Rakshasa people, besides the ancestral hatred of sneak attacking each other's capitals.
